


Luke Skywalker becomes one with the sand

by Silver_Dipstick



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Anakin is not referred to as Darth Vader, Anastasia AU, Dad Vader, Dark, Evil Jedi, Good Empire, Just messing around with ideas, Kidnapping, Kind of like the plot of Anastasia but lots has changed because its Star Wars not the Russian Tsar, Kinda funny and kinda sad in places, No Leia Skywalker, OCC in lots of places because a lot has changed, Padme doesn't die in childbirth, Semi-crackfic, Semi-dark Padme, Suitless Darth Vader, don't take this seriously, mostly light though, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-09
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:28:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22746298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silver_Dipstick/pseuds/Silver_Dipstick
Summary: Star Wars & Anastasia crossover (very loosely), where it has the Anastasia plot being butchered (by me), a good (?) Empire (run by Queen Padme because she's the best), hot and suitless Anakin being badass and mopey and just Anakin in general, evil Jedi (mainly because morals would just complicate a lighthearted semi-crackfic), and Luke Skywalker just being a confused smol bean that's whisked away by a suave Han Solo and Chewbacca who notices that he looks suspiciously like the thought to be dead long lost prince....Not including Leia (well might name drop as Bail's kid or something...) because it complicates the plot.Yeah it might be a little OCC at times but so much of the star wars plot has changed and its kinda a crackfic with more serious points stuff is gonna be different.Don't like don't read... I guess? There's nothing here really wrong other than mediocre writing and bad characterisation.I based some of this on a oneshot of the same crossover idea I read somewhere. Can't find it again so if someone knows it can they comment with a link/title because I'd love to credit them as inspiration.
Relationships: Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 26
Kudos: 39





	1. Preface- What's been crackalakin in the SW universe this time, folks?

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter is a smaller exposition setting up the world, actual chapters will be much longer.
> 
> The writing for this chapter is a bit weird as it’s in a strange tense/person view and is just showing the canon diversion that is basically this is it if you don’t want to read it:  
> • Obi-wan never got to talk to Padme she just heard rumours in the senate, so Anakin swayed her to his side more easily  
> • Anakin killed Palpatine and he and Padme now rule the galaxy together (and are well like/loved mainly because Padme is running the  
> show)  
> • Padme doesn’t die in childbirth and doesn’t lose the will to live either, she instead gives birth to one healthy baby boy, Luke  
> • There is no Leia (well there might be one mention where she’s Bail’s daughter or something) in this and the Jedi are also evil because it  
> makes it so much easier to make it an Anastasia AU without too many complicated factors and morals so basically Jedi=bad, Padme’s  
> empire=good, got it?
> 
> There are some depictions of violence/suicide/murder that are not graphic or glossed over (in my opinion), like throwaway remarks and the like- so I am keeping it at it's current archive warnings until further notice.

Lava raged across the husk of a planet that was Mustafar, a sharp contrast to the sleek Nubian cruiser landing with caution on the smouldering surface. Before the ramp had even fully lowered, a young woman was dashing out- only slightly hindered -by her obvious pregnancy- as she made her way to the man who was taking large hurried strides towards her too. Quickly embracing, he consoled her, “What’s wrong Padme?”, he gently enquired. Slightly shaking, Padme replied, “I was at the senate when I heard terrible, terrible things, how the Jedi had betrayed the Republic, that they were being killed by the clones for treason, and now Chancellor Palpatine has declared himself an Emperor! Oh Anakin!”. Somewhere, maybe in another universe, this had gone very differently. A man named Obi-Wan Kenobi had talked to Padme first, maybe learned some more truths about his ex-padawan. But he had been too late, and now the sweet and loving Padme Amidala Naberrie would never know the truth.

Anakin told his wife to go back to the lake house on Naboo. Anakin told her to take Dorme, I’m fine, I’ll be there with you soon. Anakin told his wife not to worry, he would deal with the Emperor and then they could restore the democracy she loved so much. Anakin gently took her back to her cruiser. Anakin told her he loved her very much. Anakin dealt with the Emperor Palpatine in what could be called… aggressive negotiations.

For Padme it all started with one slip up in morals, it’s very easy to agree with the smooth tongue of the dark side when it comes from the one you love, and it seems to make so much sense. ‘Just take control of the Empire for a short while, my love. Just restore the peace needed after the clone wars before giving the power back to the senate. Don’t you know? Nobody knows what the galaxy needs like you, my love. I promised you the galaxy and here it is, love’. Emperor and Empress Skywalker ruled the galaxy with an iron fist, cruel but fair, harsh but loving.

Not all was bad though, in fact most was good, very good. Everyone loved their mighty rulers, Emperor Skywalker, the hero with no fear, providing much needed order and stability to the war ravished galaxy. Empress Skywalker, loved by all, kind and forgiving, establishing peace and achieving good faster than the republic ever could. Asylum seekers welcomed, starving fed and slavery ended. Not all was good- but lots was. There was, however, one good that seemed to outweigh all others in the eyes of Empress Padme Skywalker and that was most certainly her family. Herself, the love of her life and her one and only gorgeous son: Prince Luke Skywalker.


	2. How to ruin Empire Day: 101

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is where the fun begins. ;)

Anakin’s POV

Life was finally sweet- his beautiful wife by his side, never to leave him; his very own son tucked into his side between them, beaming as he waved to the people below him; and crowds were cheering for miles in celebration of the anniversary of _his_ glorious empire. Yes, life was most certainly going his way for once, and he was happy. It was such a shame that Obi-wan and Yoda had escaped him, but that wouldn’t be for long, with his best inquisitors, troops and bounty hunters scouring the universe for them they couldn’t stay hidden for long. And with Padme by his side, finally seeing how much good she could do with herself as Empress- no lengthy senate debates where quick and direct action was needed, and no opposition to keeping the much needed peace- there was nothing else that could threaten the life he had built. Nothing else that could threaten his happiness, his galaxy, his world.

Speaking of his wondrous wife, she seemed to sense his monologue and leaned, whispering in soft tones, “Do try to keep your head out of hyperspace for the speeches, and keep an extra eye on your son- after all, while it is Empire Day, it is still his birthday, and he’s even more hyper than normal,” while he did listen with half an ear, he was much too preoccupied by Padme’s gentle ministrations, gently adjusting the chains holding his cape on his robes, which were only a more regal edition of his old Jedi robes. As she slowly lowered the hood to reveal what most women in the galaxy lusted after, (and reaching up to press a quick peck to his strong jawline as well) and before turning back to the adoring people gathered around the centre of Coruscant, Padme continued, “You do remember your promise to him, don’t you?”. After a few moments of silence Anakin spoke, “Of course I do… but you wouldn’t mind reminding me either, right?”, Padme only sighed in mild exasperation, fully expecting this from her nerfherder of a husband, “It’s his 6th birthday, and you said that you would teach him how to fly a starfighter later today. It shouldn’t be too hard considering how good his is on a speeder at any rate.” Ah yes, he’d promised his son, his amazing bubbly light, that he would take him out for his first proper space flight. Luke was an extraordinary child, always happy and the golden boy of the empire, he was kind and could do no wrong in the eyes of anyone around him. Anakin couldn’t have wished for a better son and he was even more overjoyed he could give him the galaxy. He briefly thought of his mother, Shmi, and how much she had sacrificed to give him what she thought was a good life with the Jedi. But before he could dwell on his family and how far he’d come in the universe, the fanfare died down, signalling that it was time for him to address his loyal subjects, “Citizens of the galaxy, I speak to you today not as your Emperor, but as your friend. Today marks the 6th anniversary of the empire, its glory, what it has achieved, the peace it has brought to all.” The crowd roared. “Not long ago, this galaxy was in peril, war ravaged, starving and seeming shattered beyond repair. But with the guiding hand of my beautiful wife, (he briefly paused to kiss the top of her forehead), it has been restored and now flourishes more than ever!”. He stepped back, allowing his wife to work even more wonders with her words. As much as the crowds (even more so the ladies and some gentlemen 😉) loved Anakin, they _loved_ Padme, with her keen sense of justice and a powerful will to do good in the universe along with her newfound place as supreme Empress of the galaxy- she was unstoppable. He tuned back into her speech as she was finishing- talking about how while slavery had been completely obliterated but that this year would be one to crack down on illegal trade and other forms on villainy stemming from planets like Tatooine and Carnovia system. She finished eloquently, and then the partying began. Every year since order 66 and Palpatine’s rise to power (before Anakin and Padme’s subsequent coop following his… untimely death) the people had come together to celebrate the peace that had been forced amongst the galaxy, harsh but necessary and welcomed after the painful formative years of the clone wars. The celebration wouldn’t end for days across all the galaxy and included everything from endless exquisite banquets to dancing on rooftops with colour smoke streaking through the air. Drunken idiots filling up the drunk tanks, if the Imperial officers on duty weren't enjoying the merriment a little too much that was. There was, of course, also celebrations for the young Prince Luke’s birthday. They were smaller and more personal (and extremely lavish, but the ruling couple would only have the best when it came to their son- and if they could offer him the galaxy, then why shouldn't they?)) but still just as important to many people, Luke was the next generation, the next Emperor. Luke was hope.

It was at this smaller party later that evening when the royal family had retired to the Imperial Palace for Luke’s celebration. It was a small yet lavish occasion with a meal and dance organised for later. Various members of the court and friends of Padme and Anakin were invited when Anakin first sensed a sinister disturbance in the force. It was only a slight brush, he reasoned, nothing more than a scuffle between some drunk fools in a nearby cantina. He thought no more of it until it was too late.

Padme was socialising with her close friends Mon Mothma and Bail Organa while Anakin stood dutifully by her side, still not fully relaxed from earlier. Looking over at Luke calmed him, he was fine, he was safe, and currently occupied playing some game with the young princess from Alderaan, Leia, was it? He looked to be relaxed and having fun on his birthday at least, playing games, talking sweetly to the various adults milling around the banquet table and dancing with the children of various dignitaries on the dance floor. Luke knew nothing of greed yet, and if Anakin had it his way, he would never lose that boyish innocence. Anakin’s face suddenly contorted, NO! Something was most definitely wrong, wrong, wrong, “Love, love, what’s wrong, Ani? Do I need to-“ “-AHH!” Various screams echoed around the hall, accented by antique vases smashing to the ground, flowers scattered on the floor as people shoved past each other to get out of they way of what could only be described as a madman barrelling across the floor towards Luke. “OBI-WAN!!!!” Anakin screamed, reaching for his lightsaber. But obi-wan had no eyes for his old padawan and Anakin soon had no time for him as Yoda performed what seemed like a miraculous if not completely impossible flip over the crowds, while simultaneously igniting his own lightsaber in order to meet Anakin in what would be a duel for the ages. From then on everything seemed to happen in a rush: Anakin pulled up into form II Makashi in order to counter Yoda’s form IV Ataru; Padme screamed out in anguish as the guards pulled her to a safe alcove; and even more guards rushed forward to get the young Prince- but they were too late- Obi-wan had reached him first. Pulling Luke too him with the force while Anakin was too preoccupied. Various people shouted at once, Padme’s cry of “LUKE!” most prominent amongst the ensuing ruckus. With a pained cry from Luke himself, Obi-wan had snatched him up, quickly subduing the boy into a deep sleep with the force, and taken off in the direction of the palace hanger, with the imperial guards in hot pursuit, unable to shoot on fear of hitting Luke. Even a stun blast could prove fatal if it was to be strong enough to stop the Jedi Master. Turning corners at a rapid rate, his muscles pulsing with the force, powering him on despite the increasing number of guards closing in he reached the hanger. Almost a full battalion of troops had assembled to greet the General in full force once he got there. Kenobi had, though, anticipated this, it was hard enough smuggling themselves in, but out was nigh impossible. Yoda had seemed to accept that his fate was most certainly death, and so would Kenobi, if their plans did not come to pass. But with a lightsaber held to the smallest of the Skywalker family's head, he escaped into the Coruscanti night unharmed and unhindered.

Meanwhile, Anakin was racing through the palace, burning with rage after having dispatched of Yoda, but seeing his son missing with guards flocking to secure the palace and rescue the Prince, he wasted no time moving on. Hearing his wife’s sobs and son’s lone wail echoing in his head he pressed onwards- he vowed he would not lose him. Not while he lived.

* * *

He lost him.

* * *

Anakin raged. Padme sobbed. The people mourned. Obi-wan set course for Tatooine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this was a lot less semi-crackfic and a lot more dark, but I promise it gets lighter and a little funnier (hopefully). Hope you enjoyed- most of this fic has already been written out as a fun project rather than a serious longer fic so updates every five days or so.


	3. Obi-Wanders off the realm of this AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nobody likes sand. Except Jar Jar Binks. I feel like I should have Jar Jar pop up in every other chapter just for me to kill him off again and again. Comment if you'd like to see that.

The bounty for Obi-wan Kenobi (dead or alive, though preferably alive), while already unimaginably high at 1,000,000 galactic credit, was increased by tenfold, even without the help of Anakin, as the people were so outraged that ordinary people from across the star chipped in to try help. Luke too had an enormous bounty for his safe return at the enormous price of 1,000,000,000 galactic credits. As well as the bounty for him, the number of troops reassigned, and star ships sent to scour the universe, would have seemed excessive had it been anybody else in the universe, but alas nobody could find him. It was as if he had vanished into the very void of space itself. Which, upon reflection, Anakin knew to be possible if Obi-wan flew too close to a black hole with Luke aboard just to spite him- taking away all he loved -but he knew of Kenobi’s intentions for him, take him, train him as the new generation of the Jedi order, and make him kill his father. Obi-wan was getting weaker in his age, and Yoda was far too past his prime and now far too past being alive to help. All other Jedi were killed in order 66 or the aftermath. So, for killing the Sith once and for all, Luke was their only hope.  
While in hyperspace Obi-wan spent a long time meditating on the situation, while it was no surprise Yoda didn’t make it, he had been a great friend and even greater Jedi Master, and Obi-wan felt his passing into the force more strongly with each passing moment. His death signifying that Obi-wan was truly the last jedi in the universe and alone. Well alone as one can be with a fitfully sleeping six year old in the bunk of your stolen starship that is. He would need to make sure the boy would become faithful to the Jedi, and his upbringing would not be helpful to the situation at hand. His close connection to his father would also allow Anakin to track him in the force if he came close enough- and that most certainly wouldn’t be good. So as they approached Tatooine Obi-wan decided that in order to free the galaxy from Anakin; and make sure Luke would kill his father when the time came, he would wipe the young Skywalker's mind, as his brain wasn’t fully developed, allowing some pliability when it came to ‘rewriting’ him so to speak. While he wasn’t as weak willed as most, his was a mild mannered and kind child, easily manipulated by anyone. On the other hand, he didn’t have time to rewrite Luke’s memories right now, as they were approaching the Tatooine system and about to come out of hyperspace, but he did know someone who could help him while he did.  
It was taking more and more effort from Obi-wan to keep the boy subdued and docile with the force by the time he arrived at the Lars homestead after making a few detours in order to make sure he most certainly couldn’t be traced. Taking weeks of hiding and changing transports, even leaving Tatooine the stay on a spice freighter for a few days, and in that time Anakin had narrowed down his son’s force presence to the Arkanis sector, putting the entire sector on lockdown for the foreseeable future. Obi-wan knew he had to act quickly and send them off his tail or he’d be discovered sooner rather than later, and Luke’s training wouldn’t even have really started. Hopping of his speeder and taking the sleeping boy into his arms the weary Jedi entered the small doorway of the Lars’ family home where he was greeted by a middle-aged man, Owen Lars. “You have some gall turning up here, Obi-wan”, he said, following a second later, “Especially with him… you’d better come in.” Obi-wan quickly stepped over the threshold, “I won’t be in your hair long, I assure you, I only need to wipe his memory, that will get Anakin off of my back and also allow me to leave the system with any luck. I’ll only be here a day or two at most and it’ll take weeks to clear everyone in the sector, even with the sheer man-power of the Empire and a full lockdown.” Beru looked over to the tense men and decided that maybe making some food and preparing the spare room might be for the best in any case. 'Food helped everything' though Beru briefly, and across the universe a miracle happened, billion of hungry teens agreed in absolute unison- the only thing anyone could agree on. In was with a short sigh that Owen invited Ben to sit down at the dining room table where Anakin had sat all those years ago, “I’ll leave you too it, and you better be right about whatever you’re doing only taking a day or two, because that’s all you’ve got before I leave you to the rancors. If you need anything, I’ll be down at the Tosche station, so send Beru over,” and with that he left. As soon as Owen has left the farm-stead Obi-wan set to work, this was no easy feat and working on a young mind could be fickle even for the best Jedi healers. But he was a Jedi master and determined to ‘save’ the universe from the evil that was his former padawan. A few hours later (and a few gallons of sweat lost by how much Obi-wan was dripping), Luke was proclaimed ‘done’. Despite his lack of memories and in some areas… ‘replaced’ memories in particularly memorable events, Luke’s force presence seemed just as strong, if not stronger. Obi-wan had expected that after removing most memories and replacing strong ones of his mother, father, friends and the palace staff with that of memories of mistreatment as a child of servants in the Imperial palace that his bond with his father would be all but completely severed. After a few standard minutes of careful deliberation Obi-wan decided that he would need to take more drastic action to hide Luke. He would dampen his feel for the force, after all he could teach his lightsaber forms and meditation without a strong connection for now, and he could remove it later. He would also need to shatter the connection to his father himself. It might be a little painful, but it would also mean Anakin could never track his son, and that he might believe he was dead. Yes- he decided- this was the best course of action, he should take it without delay, every minute exposed here was a minute closer to his inevitable demise, and with it, the Jedi. So, without meditating or resting after his strenuous use of the force, he soldiered on, like a good jedi warrior. This did not go well. 

Across the universe, where Anakin was barking orders to his men, consoling his distraught wife, holding himself together and making preparations to head to the Arkanis sector and lead the search himself, he stopped. And screamed. His son was gone. Not just dampened by Obi-wan’s shielding or distance, gone. Not a trace in the force. Anakin, he thought, had killed his own son be forcing Obi-wan’s hand. Cracking down on the sector, allowing no chance of escape, ensuring death for the Jedi. Obi-wan would rather kill Luke that have Anakin get him back. Anakin had lost his son. 

‘Well, that could have gone better.’, thought Obi-wan, as he completely cut Luke of from his father… and the force. To make matters worse, Empress Padme had found resolution in what she believed to be her son’s death and quickly stepped in where Anakin had lost will in order to track down Obi-wan to the miserable dustball of Tatooine. How she had gotten the message out within minutes of his actions was beyond him, probably beyond the Force considering this was Padme and she just did whatever the kriff she wanted these days. They were truly a formidable pair, Anakin and Padme, covering where each other were weak and trusting each other completely too. This was not going as he had planned. Then, Owen had arrived back, hearing the news about how Luke was apparently dead (how the news had spread so fast across the galaxy was still a wonder), and with Empress Padme’s apparent reaffirmation, raced home to see what the kriff had happened in the few hours he was gone. Obi-wan was, though, already packing. “I am leaving the boy in your care, there is some identification on the table, he is now Luke Dustwalker, a nobody, orphan of the war,” before Owen could interrupt, ”There is no choice, if I take him then Anakin will get him back, but he is just a boy, and has no memory of anything anymore, and I cannot fault him for his lineage. He has no connection to the force and therefore cannot become a Sith or Jedi. The empire has secured Tatooine and too many traces lead back here. If they believe Luke to be dead, then there is no reason to search Tatooine once I am certifiably gone. Dead or otherwise. This is the end for the Jedi, I’m sorry. Good luck, and may the force be with you.” With that, he left, no room for discussion or a word in edgeways, he left, and disappeared into the setting twin suns of Tatooine. Of to do something crazy and stupid as all the Obi-Wans across any and all parallel universes are inevitably drawn too, no matter when or how. “Well Luke Dustwalker, welcome to the family.”

It was the morning after, when Owen, and Beru with a sleepy and confused Luke stationed on her lap, heard the news. It was all over the holonet. Empire Day Tragedy- Prince Luke Skywalker kidnapped and killed by Jedi. Underneath the headline detailed the attack in the Imperial Palace, how valiantly Anakin struck down the traitorous Jedi master Yoda, the escape of Obi-wan Kenobi with the prince, and his subsequent murder, and the last Jedi’s appearance in Mos Eisley, in front of a garrison of storm troopers, his last words before impaling himself upon his very own lightsaber, “The Jedi may be gone, but our legacy will never end, I hope you are proud of what you’ve done, Anakin”. The great and mighty negotiator. What a drama queen. He had slumped over and vanished. But Anakin felt his death in the force all the same (and also was just a tiny bit relieved that he didn't have to go to a sand infested planet any more. Like just a tiiiiiny bit).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Obi-Wan is a mega drama queen like we thought Anakin was bad. The plot thickens like my tomato soup on the stove right now and as previously mentioned Padme is a badass bitch that does whatever the hell she wants force be damned. But seriously though please tell me if you want to see me kill Jar Jar over and over in like a background sentence or two in as increasingly hilarious ways (if I can). Hell even suggest some yourself.


	4. how many star-wars specific words can i fit in a chapter? who knows?? not me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> we basically advance the plot by like many years in about two words because im a sloppy writer. absolutely not bothering my beta with this monstrosity. the entire work is born from a 13 hour car journey and much coffee. enjoy

Coruscant was never quiet, from the endless stream of speeders, people out at all hours (working and partying alike), Coruscant truly was the planet that didn’t sleep. Come high tide or wartime the people at the heart of the Empire were never truly silenced. Except for today. While more people lined the streets than ever before, and every balcony and rooftop was also filled with people, more having come from everywhere imaginable, Kashyyyk to Jakku, you could have heard a credit drop from one side of the planet to the other. Today was the funeral. It was Prince Luke’s funeral, to be precise. There was no body recovered, as far as the royal couple were concerned, he was dead, and while they could have obliterated Tatooine in search of a corpse it was not worth it. Anakin never wanted to step foot there again. And neither of them wanted to face the mutilated body of their son, learn how he died. They didn’t want to know it is was painful and slow, how much mercy Obi-wan had granted. Despite everything, they didn’t want to face what they had lost. So there was no body. If only they had ripped apart Tatooine in search of whatever remained of their only child, this may have been a very different story. But there was no body, no rage fuelled massacre of Tatooine’s inhabitants. Only an empty casket, so ornate and beautiful in a delicate and morbid way, in the way that only a coffin built for a child could be. Too small, too narrow, and Luke had never been a large child- he probably wouldn’t have even grown tall enough to be a stormtrooper (not that he would have even been allowed to be in the first place). The atmosphere only became more sombre still as the procession continued to a memorial statue, newly built to commemorate the late prince. It was quite small, but personal. The statue consisted of three people, Luke, sat on his adoring mothers lap, looking angelic, preserved in orichalc form; while Padme’s likeness smiled down at her son, who she could no longer smile towards; and Anakin. Anakin stood behind his family, arm around the golden shoulders of his wife, forever protecting them. Around the statue was a small fountain that sat serenely still, but in months to come would host wonderous water displays, and to surround the impressive memorial was a park that stretched out for half a kilometre and was filled with an impressive array of flowers picked out by Empress Padme herself. Blue and gold, just like Luke. After the ceremony, the coffin would stay there for a standard week to allow for the people to come pay their respects, and then it would be moved to Theed on Naboo, where it would be taken to the Naberrie family mausoleum. The galaxy would continue with a standard month of mourning. Anakin and Padme would never stop mourning. 

A sharp contrast from the miserable mindset most places in the galaxy held, a young boy named Luke Dustwalker was having a great time playing with a new toy Tie-fighter that his Uncle Owen had picked up on sale in the Tosche station. While he most certainly hadn’t wanted to buy empire propaganda for his new charge there wasn’t anything else cheap enough, and he knew the boy would need a toy or too here in the middle of the Tatooine wastelands. Luke Dustwalker was a very strange boy indeed to those around him. He had a very mild manner and temper compared to most on the scum-ridden dustball that was Tatooine, he forgave too quickly, and was far too kind. Half the people he met were suspicious of him, and the other half pitied him. Despite the sharp change from his previous life, Luke had settled in well in the week he had been there. Granted- he didn’t remember anything, but Beru was nice at least, and Owen wasn’t too bad- if he wasn’t angry -that is. As Luke played in the sand just outside of the farm, under the setting suns of Tatoo 1 and 2, he thought back on the past week. Five things he liked or liked to do: blue milk; playing with his tie-fighter; the way Beru tickles his tummy when he doesn’t want to get ready for bed; getting a treat from the Tosche station when he’d been a good boy; and the new friend he’d made- Biggs. Five things he didn’t like: when Owen had gotten made at him for trying to upgrade the power converters of the moisture collectors; the way the sand got stuck between his toes and didn’t quite come out in the sonic; he’d didn’t like the sonic at all for that matter- it made him feel icky, but water was too precious to waste on showers on Tatooine; how hot it was all the time; and how mad Owen got whenever he asked questions. ‘Why do I have to call you Owen? Why can’t I call you dad?’ You’re an orphan, kid. ‘But didn’t you adopt me aaaages ago? How come I can’t remember?’ You hit your head, now be quiet. ‘Why didn’t I have any stuff then? Why didn’t anybody know me?’ We had to move. ‘But, but it doesn’t make sense!’ Nothing in life these days does, kiddo. Now why don’t you take that little Tie-fighter and go play outside...’ok’. Like and don’t like was a game Luke had played every spare minute in the past few days, ever since Luke and Beru had gone to the local medi-droid centre. It was cheaper and more run down than the average doctors, but safer too. When they had entered very few questions were asked and Luke was formally adopted, and in a way, fully re-birthed as Luke Dustwalker. Clone Wars orphan, born on Empire Day, just like dead prince. What a…coincidence. Any real doctor would have been more than suspicious at this point. But medi-droids just weren’t programmed that way. Well not the ones on the barren outskirts of Tatooine at least. After a few short tests to determine Luke’s overall wellbeing, the droid started working on solving Luke’s amnesia. While the droid could undoubtably do nothing to rectify the situation (nor could a regular doctor either, Beru supposed), it was important to jump through the legal loopholes should anyone come investigating. It most certainly wouldn’t hold up should anyone even remotely determined come knocking, it would do for now, and the Imperial garrison would hardly be bothered with some run-of-the-mill nobody family of moisture farmers to ever pay enough attention unless they caused some real trouble. Which they of course never intended too. Imperial hold on Tatooine, while it had been removed from being under the choke hold of the Empire that it was a week ago, was still occupied by two garrisons, and the troopers themselves were harsher than your average ones. Not by order of their superiors, but by their own volition. They patrolled better, were more alert and all over more adept. A product of their fierce conditioning and loyalty to the Empire and its ruling family. And Tatooine? It had wronged them. Its people had failed, and in a way, so had they.   
??? Years later  
Despite the best efforts of stormtroopers, most underground crime on Tatooine hadn’t actually stopped it had just actually gone underground. With the Hutts no longer in control of any space (or anyone, considering their rather… dead condition), and imperial occupation of the planet things like smuggling and drug trafficking had simply become a lot more discrete. Slavery had disappeared however, there were full lifeform scans of ships, people were split questioned and taken care of in they were either slaves or slave traders/owners. In fact, the crack down had been so severe and thorough that while most people in the galaxy were pleased and supported it, some rumours had sprouted that Emperor Skywalker was once a slave. On the other hand, the Empire had turned a blind eye to pod racing which, while not too dangerous comparatively and only voluntarily with the collapse of slavery, was rather strange all things considered. Luke, not understanding most things about the Empire at the minute, thought this was great, and absolutely loved sneaking out to see them (and participate in the occasional one, but not that he’d ever admit that to Owen), as he grew older. While Owen, or Uncle Owen, as he’d become accustomed to saying, despite there being no familial connection that he knew of, was only marginally disapproving of him sneaking off to watch podraces as long as he didn’t shirk off any chores in doing so, Luke was sure that racing in them would make Uncle Owen go ballistic. As far as his Uncle knew Luke only used his heavily customised T-16 racer for messing around near beggars canyon with friends, and he was already chided enough for that alone. If he knew he was racing and winning (sometimes) in proper dangerous races… He shuddered violently at the thought… he’d much rather be eaten by wild rancors. But soon, just a few more seasons he reasoned, and he’d be gone. He’d join the Imperial Flight Corps. And become the best pilot yet. He’d get off this nowhere dustball where nobody cared and live among the stars. That was the dream at least. But today was a different story, today was fix the broken gonk droid (he didn’t know why they had one of those on a constantly dust desert planet anyway), find one of Owen’s missing hydrospanners, help Beru fix her dresser and then he could meet up with Biggs and Wedge for a quick couple of circuits providing he was fast enough.   
After a long and arduous day of manual labour and slogging through the shoddy programming of a useless gonk droid Luke was finally allowed to set out. For Luke it was way too long since he’d seen his friends- it had been a whole week and he was anxious to show them a new move he’d been trying to perfect. More dangerous than normal, but still achievable with a little skill. Dustwalker smirked to himself as he approached where his two friends were waiting for him. He’d commed them a while ago, urging them to get there as fast as they could and that he’d be there soon. He didn’t slow down as he came closer and closer, instead Luke was going to shock them. The plan was to fly past them with a, “Watch this!”, and then skim right up to the canyon wall before sharply pulling across in a feint, lifting up as hard as he could in doing so. And barrel rolling over in the very narrow space before giving off a signature whoop and turning back around. Surprisingly, this actually all went to plan up until the point he pulled off and whipped his head around to see his friends’ awed faces. They were awed, and then he crashed into the other side of the canyon.


	5. Looking for a Skywalker? Chances are they're in the medbay.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lil update for your coronavirus quarantine woes. this fic has not been proof read let alone been seen by the eyes of a beta so is the product of cramped car journey and sleep deprivation. have fun

When Luke wakes for the second time that day its significantly more painful, and while there’s still sand between his toes it smells distinctively more sterile than home. This leads him to believe that his is in fact, not at home but in the local medical station. That and through his bleary eyes he can see that the ceiling above him is not the off-white cream colour of his bedroom but the dirty grey that he had grown accustomed to seeing more during his rather rambunctious childhood. What’s more concerning to Luke is that while he had the signature throbbing head that came with a nasty crash, he felt different. Lighter and more, in tune, maybe? Just odd indeed. Really weird. He had all of his limb and looked otherwise intact for what had happened, he certainly could have come out of that with a lot worse injuries. It was quite miraculous that he wasn’t dead in reality. Before Luke could muse to the noticeably empty room, or even notice that it was empty- or that the twilight outside was lightening, a medi-droid traipsed in. It took a few moments before it realised that Luke was, in fact awake. Then came the myriad of questions on both sides. Luke had luckily remembered what happened and come out relatively unscathed, but he was still out of the loop.

How long have I been out? 13 hours.  
Are you in pain anywhere? My head is throbbing and I’m a little sore all over but otherwise fine. Oh and I feel a little floaty.  
Floaty, define this please, Yeah, just a bit light and weird.  
Where’s my Aunt Beru? Uncle Owen? Are my friend’s alright, Biggs and Wedge? Did they bring me here? Your friends brought you here and your guardians stayed with you until visiting hours were over. As you are 19 and over the age of emancipation your guardians could not stay overnight without your express permission. Please remain still as I scan you for your hourly medical evaluation.

At least droids never changed, Luke thought to himself, after having gone through many vigorous medical checks. Lift this, lift that, tongue down, tongue up, feel this? Feel that? After the droid was reassure numerous times he was fine now, and that he didn’t bring up his newfound weirdness for the sake of going home sooner, he was told he could leave after breakfast at eight. So, three hours? Luke was unsure, but if he had gone to the canyon at four, and been out thirteen hours, then it was five, so then it was three hours until he could leave here. While he was sure the punishment from his legal guardians was going to be severe for being so reckless, he was also excited to see his friends’ reactions to his new trick, despite what happened after. He was sure they were amazed, and if Luke left the medical facility at eight and then got back to wait outside for nine… he might just be able to see his friends quickly and come back before he was grounded for the rest of eternity. Shaking his head sadly he dismissed the idea. He still felt off, strange, powerful? There was a strange melancholy, a strong but old sadness renewed around him too. It might actually be a good idea to get more rest in for now, before he went crazy. And with that, Luke Dustwalker drifted off again, unaware that Luke Skywalker was right beneath the surface.

Elsewhere in the galaxy a broken man by the name of Anakin was crying. He was broken for many reasons: slavery had broken him; the slaughter of his mother had broken him; the Jedi had broken him; the Sith had broken him; but then, when he was so close to fracturing beyond repair, Padme had fixed him; his son had healed him; and his son had shattered him all over again. Once his light was gone, ripped far too soon from the galaxy, everything seemed to break around them. While himself and Padme were still very much in love, they were both empty, gone in a way neither could repair. Anakin became even more protective of his wife to the point of isolating her from the world, whereas Padme could barely look at her husband without seeing her son, or who he could have become. He had always looked like a younger version of Anakin, and while she had found it so endearing when he was in her arms, now all it did was make her weep. Despite their deep emotional pain, the Empire ran flawlessly as ever, if better than before. Their hold had strengthened in their grief as they threw themselves into their work. Padme the politician, Anakin the enforcer. While they had lost some of their drive, they also worked harder than ever to achieve their goal of a perfect peaceful galaxy. There were no more Jedi, crime was at an all time low, as was famine, homelessness and disease. Quick and decisive action was always taken, the people were listened too and most prospered heavily under a new golden era. But for Anakin and Padme, as long as they lived, as their empire reigned, Luke would be remembered.   
Anakin was on Coruscant when he felt it, which was rare in and of itself considering he spent most of his time commanding his ginormous fleet personally, but it had just recently been the thirteenth year after Luke’s passing, and this year he felt compelled to stay console his wife a little longer. Something in the Force whispering in the back of his mind. Whatever it was, was only a little blip at first, so small and quickly that he would have completely missed it had he not been meditating; blossomed into a huge tidal wave that threatened to drown him in light. And it was so familiar and intoxicating that he let himself be taken away by the force, so completely moved that he didn’t know who he was anymore.  
“Quickly, fetch a medic!”, a young woman, dressed in plain servant robes cried out, “its Emperor Skywalker, he’s unconscious!” Several people came at once, someone dialling an emergency medic to come on a small wall commlink. As he was moved down the halls to the medical wing those around him became increasingly more concerned at how calm, serene and… happy?, he was. He was genuinely smiling. And the medic was wondering just how hard he’d hit his head. In fact, what had happened to the almighty Emperor and Sith Lord to leave him in this state. The young girl that had found him had only said she was giving him summons for dinner when upon knocking on the door and finding it open, she’d spied him sprawled out across the floor. Under normal circumstances she’d be chastised for her actions but many paled to think what could have happened if she hadn’t. No one was sure what had happened yet to say the least. As he was being carefully lowered into a cot and scanned for injuries or altercation Empress Padme stormed into the room like a woman possessed. As she turned her slightly crazed eyes to her lover and stalked over, assessing him for any damage herself (after all- who knew Anakin better than her?), the rest of her entourage raced in, which was a testimony to how fast both parties had ran here and how fast she was informed. The royal advisors were there which meant she was most likely in the throne or conference room at the time, which were around seven and eleven minutes away respectively, and Anakin had only been found four minutes ago. Very impressive. She was over at his side at seemingly inhumane speeds. Could the Sith enchant others? Regardless he seemed to stir at her touch and pulled her ear to his lips whispering softly, too softly for anymore but Padme to hear. The mighty Empress was stunned in the second after his head fell limp again, and his and fell back deftly to his chest, no longer gripping hers more ferociously than the sun could beat on Tatooine. She suddenly righted, her back in a rigorous line, unwavering, and then she crumpled to the floor. Caught completely unaware by the present situation, no one moved to catch her as she sobbed until someone leant down to her and whispered, “Are you alright, my Lady, will Master Anakin be alright?” A few more sobs later and she looks up again and whispers back, slightly hoarse, “He’ll be fine, we’ll be fine, please move him to our chambers. We have some wonderous news for when he comes around again.” She picks herself up from the floor, laughing to herself a little, “I’m sorry I’m just so overjoyed, I can’t believe it. Bail, please clear my schedule for the week- I have a feeling that I’m going to need to be free.” Without another word she left, everyone else wondering what in the kriffing Sithspit had just happened. But for Padme. Her whole world had been transformed in a few simple words:  
“My love, my love. He’s alive, I felt it. He’s back, he’s alive, and we’ll find him.” He didn’t need to explain, although, despite her relative composure for the bombshell that had been hurtled at her faster than smugglers could finish the Kressel run, she did think to herself, 'ok Anakin what the actual legitimate kriff?!!?'


	6. Making Disney reference in a franchise owned by disney: an autobiography

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another update mainly because I'm procrastinating doing my maths homework, so if you like this shitty fic thank my maths teacher i guess??

Fluttering his eyes open – much like princesses do in those old holovids that everyone watches when they’re kids -Luke woke yet again, briefly groaning to see the twin suns were both almost halfway in the clear skies, and so that it was definitely past eight. Also, that Aunt Beru was asleep on a chair, her upper body slowly shifting of his legs as she awoke. “Luke, Luke are you up?”, with deep bags around her eyes showing that she had way less sleep than he had, she looked up to see him nodding. There was definitely a faint blush of embarrassment at what had happened, but unlike most times when he had pulled stupid stunts, and they had ended worse, Beru held no disapproval or scorning words- only fear. And quite honestly- Luke was now very, very scared. “Aunt Beru, what’s wrong?” … after a moment of silence that lasted a little too long for Luke’s liking, she replied, “Nothing, Luke, I was just worried when they said you’d hit your head.” But her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. Luke didn’t comment on it. With that, Beru stood up and brushed down the very not imaginary sand (it was everywhere and Luke still hated it with all of his being, it was coarse, rough and irritating, and it got everywhere) [a/n: sorry I will try to restrain myself it was just too tempting] and pried open the door. A medi-droid was quickly waved in and gave him a final look over before discharging him. Luke mentioned to no one that he actually felt even stranger upon waking up, not only would it worry Beru and keep him here for longer, but Luke couldn’t exactly describe it either, it just felt like everywhere had begun screaming at him- strongly. Still, he walked out of the small and run-down medical facility, otherwise none the worse for wear, and hopped into the driver’s seat of Beru’s speeder with a cheeky smirk. “Oh, you think you’re driving Mr. I’m going to crash my prized racer headfirst into a wall?”, for all her talk, she still jumped on behind him and snuck her arms around her nephews still small frame with a smile too. “Of course, my skills are still better than yours and Owen’s combined- even if I got amnesia twice over.” With a small smack to the back of the head (ah, so she isn’t quite as over almost having lost me as I thought, Luke mused), she snapped back with a retort of, “Well if you are so good of a driver- why is your ride so completely totalled then?”, a pregnant pause later- “Completely totalled, like scrap? Like scrap, scrap?” Luke had never had to completely scrap his beloved racer as he was more careful than most would believe. It was his prize and joy, and with the many modifications it had been through over the years it was quite the ride. Always kept in peak condition too. Power converters primed every week, couplings changed when they got even a little mangy- which while not completely necessary- Luke was always a fan of greater control on the tighter turns of the infamous beggars canyon. He thoughts were carefully interrupted, “I’m sorry Luke, most of its completely gone.” Luke started up the engine, and sped off, holding on just a little harder, and going just a little faster than he normally would, but otherwise not saying a word.  
Once home, Luke prepared himself to be most thoroughly and utterly grounded for the rest of his life- or at least until he was 20 in close to a year- and to have his commlink confiscated too. At this rate, Luke would never get to leave the farm for years. Not yet having to crouch to pass under the door to the main living area was, where Owen was waiting, he dug into his pocket, trying to find his comm to just hand over. Much to his surprise Owen didn’t even look at him, he was staring with an odd mixture of fear and contempt at the… Holonews? Empress Skywalker was giving what looked to be a very important speech, but she had been muted. Interested, Luke moved to unmute her when his Uncle finally spoke, “Luke… go to your room, we’ll talk later but me and Beru need to talk.” Luke stopped with his hand half outstretched and let it fall back to his side. Any excuse to delay the inevitable was perfectly fine by him, even if he was intrigued by the Holonews. Swiftly crossing the room to make his way upstairs, Luke paused to look back. While both Beru and Owen were standing stiff as if made of durasteel, Owen now had his back to the Holoprojector and Beru was turned to face it instead. The Empress herself had disappeared from the wavy blue light, and instead a stream of numbers was displayed. Really big, with a credit sign… A bounty? That high? Why that was ten billion credits! What would anyone even do with that much money? It was absurd! Who was worth that much??? Certainly not some farm boy from Tatooine, Luke laughed to himself. Now he was insanely interested but still moved to go to his room. It wouldn’t do to anger his uncle more while he was still upset over something else. Before the living room completely disappeared from view, Luke’s eyes flickered over to Beru again, only to find, as his feet moved onwards of their own accord, that she was completely horrified. What in the Sithspit was going on here?   
A wave of dizziness and this strange new sensation he was lowly becoming accustomed to hit him like a bantha as went into his bedroom, almost smacking into the closed door as he did. Feeling even worse than before, Luke sank into the bed, voices that he could barely make out filtering through his ajar door. Sprawling out across his cot as much as he could considering it was bought with little hindsight for growth a fair few number of years back. Luke could barely remember his own last name at the moment though, let alone just how many years back his ill-fitting cot was bought. The pounding in his head was becoming too much to bear as it mingled with what had seemed to turn into a screaming match between his Aunt and Uncle. Or was it him as well? Was Luke Skywalker screaming too? Skywalker? No, no he was a Dustwalker and that’s all he’d ever be. The dust that was swirling in his mind quickly turned to black.  
In his, thankfully, unconscious state, Luke was completely unaware of the mess he’d made. While the argument between his guardians had become rapidly more heated, it had also dissolved just as fast when they heard the boy they’d raised start screaming as though he was slowly dissolving in the belly of a sarlacc. Anything to do with Luke would quickly become a moot point if he was dying as horrifically as he sounded to be. Bursting into the room as if possessed, they could only stand, petrified, in the doorway. If the Lars’ household had anything adorning the walls, then they might had noticed a little earlier that everything within a 5m radius of Luke was both floating and tremoring violently enough to make some of the more delicate items shatter. Everything that hadn’t exploded yet, items ranging from pillows to holopads to a spare rotary power plug, began vibrating all the more violently as Beru let out a gasp. She was concerned about the flying objects, sure, but Luke himself looked like a picture of agony. Clutched head in hands, ripping at his hair while the rest of his body scrunched up so small that with his baby face, even marred by pain as it was, he looked no more than twelve. Once Beru had edged past a holopad (it was shakily displaying some outdated information about a protocol droid they had once owned), and tenderly pried Luke’s arms from shielding his face from her, she closely inspected her ‘nephew’. Hot tears were streaking down his face, eyes balled up, and his skin was a deathly pale. His usually happy smile was transformed into the twisted grimace before her. “Luke, Luke, Luke!” her cries were perforated by gasps, both her and Luke struggling for breath. It was then that Owen broke from his sentry in the entrance and came to their aid. Unfortunately for the trio, the best version of help that Owen could provide was shaking the boy vigorously. This did not help Beru’s ever rising panic nor Luke’s condition. In fact, it only grew worse to the point that even Beru and Owen swore they could begin to feel Luke’s pain- until, nothing.  
Elsewhere on Tatooine, one HANdsome smuggler [a/n: seriously wtf am I doing?] was also having what most would consider to be a bad day. Which meant his very furry friend was also having a bad day. And a Wookie having a bad day was not fun for anyone to be around. Except for, that is, one particularly smug smuggler named Cad Bane, who was waving to the two as he swung out of the cantina, “Remember Han one month for my money, or you’re a dead man. Imperial law or not.”


	7. YOu ArE tHE dRAmA QUEen!!1!11 (only Anakin, oh yeah!!!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin is the ultimate drama queen adding in the spice of the plot points because he wants to have a cinematic moment with his hot wife, and like,,,, can we blame a thot for trying??? 
> 
> Also if ya'll like this shit thank 'TheMaskOfADepressedBrat' and 'Grace' because of their nice comments <3
> 
> Also big thanks to 'Francis1' for commenting on every chapter, nice one.

“You’re 100% sure, absolutely, completely sure?”

“Yes.”

By the time Padme had settled on the ginormous bed that was the unchallenged centre piece of the room, two attendants and three medics had brought up Anakin, who was actually looking much more recovered than before. He managed to stumble his way across the floor to sit at Padme’s feet when she waved off the uneasy medic. She figured that their unease was more due to the fact that Anakin was always stubborn when it came to injuries, whether that be small bruises from training to blaster wounds in the clone wars, than unease due to his current condition, as they didn’t put up any resistance in scurrying away. It also may have been due to the slightly crazed but clearly elated facial expression that the galactic emperor wore. It would have sent lesser men running regardless of post or duty that’s for sure. Padme hadn’t seen him this happy since… Luke. Although, if he was right, if by some Force given miracle his words were true… There was no need to stumble over his name. He’d be home soon, and she was sure of it. They’d explain to the public somehow, most knew of the Force and its wonders from the time of the Jedi, and if they found Luke alive then it would all be worth it. No matter how much he’d changed, aged or otherwise as long as he was happy, Padme would be happy, as his mother anyway. Broken from her silent musings Anakin whispered, in a broken, reverent way, “I felt him Padme, I don’t know how, I don’t know why, but he’s alive. He’s light, so light. His force signature has barely changed-our bond is all but gone but I feel him in the Force. He’s brighter than the biggest supernova, and everywhere. All around us, right here in the core to the outer-rim I feel him. So bright and completely overwhelming. It’s like a floodgate of power-surging endlessly. Raw and untrained and fresh. As if he’s been blind his entire life and can now see. In fact, that’s probably exactly what happened.” For a moment, thoughts of Luke aren’t penetrated or spoiled his final scream, or the last vestiges of Kenobi haunting him. He’s basking in the unending and unwavering Force light of his son. It’s a longer moment of much needed reprieve than Padme as a non-force sensitive gets. Taking a longer strand of her husband’s hair, she pulled him down into the bed beside her, him offering no resistance against her. Their arms intertwine and Anakin pulls Padme into a strong embrace as she tries to find the words needed to continue. Words are usually Padme’s forte, but this is not politics, not a negotiation, nor the battlegrounds of the senate. She’s in bed with her husband, grieving over her son, who despite all the power and force in the galaxy, she could not save. But it doesn’t matter because she’s found her words again: “Where is he, Ani?”. Anakin can’t reply- because he doesn’t know. He does so anyway, “Everywhere, I feel him everywhere.” Which, in hindsight, was not the smartest thing to say- but it was cinematic, which was all Anakin the drama queen could think of in that moment, as he didn’t actually know yet. He wasn’t wrong in what he said, but Padme misinterpreted that as ‘I can’t find him in the Force’. So, the news was spread, a search was set. More troops, bounty hunters, investigators everything was up in that air, a whirl of excitement swept the nation. The Prince, alive? How dare -the Jedi deceive us! It was all that anyone from the palace attendants (especially those who had seen the family before and how life had changed) to the Gungans on Naboo- were talking about. Where was he? Was he a prisoner? Trapped? Wouldn’t someone had noticed or found Luke by now? The mystery of the century: what the kriff had happened to Luke Skywalker?  
It was most definitely in retrospect, after Anakin’s dramatic tendencies died down, that he should have mentioned that depending on the circumstances, it might have been easier to wait until the Force barrage died down, then tried to find Luke through the bond (however fractured and weak). It might take a few weeks considering the fact that over ten years of emotions and potential suddenly crashed into the Force, but maybe safer for Luke. So, for Luke’s safety and to potentially speed things up a little, Anakin in his infinite wisdom of dumbassery made the decision to search for Luke in the Force himself. While he wanted to lead searches himself across the galaxy he didn’t want to miss seeing Luke if he was found or turned up at the palace after the announcement was made (Anakin personally thought that whoever decided to open up the palace for any potential Luke to come in and get verified was an absolute moron- unless it was Padme’s idea of course). This was the best of both worlds. And besides, Anakin was the chosen one, he could do anything, right? Wrong.

He meditated normally for a short while, revelling in the wondrous change in the Force from its emptiness, and then searched for the bond to his son. It had withered and died even more with time- past what even Anakin had expected, but he had also buried the remains of the painful bond deep within him long ago. He gave a tentative pull with the Force, exerting more and more pressure into the bond as it refused to respond to him. With one final push the bond snapped open, “Luke?!” he cried into it, where was he, where was he? “Huh...? God?? Elmo???” came the short reply before the bond burst into agony, but on Luke’s side. The bond proceeded to snap shut as fast as it had opened, and this time, stay dead. Anakin, having gained no (useful?) information other than that he had become pained from the forceful Force interaction, decided not to tell Padme about his little endeavour. He only hoped that Luke’s pain had subsided now that the connection was closed, and probably for good until they met again. Not a second later he received a notice on his holoreceiver from Padme saying that she needed him. She couldn’t know already, could she? Yeah she probably could. He gulped, taking a long breath as he readied himself to go down to the palaces receival room for honoured guests or dignitaries.

Anakin needn’t have worried for his Force meddling but wished that he had taken the ‘scenic’ route in getting there anyway. When he arrived it was evident just exactly why he was needed here. Luke. Or really, Luke’s’. Plural. Like at least 2000 Lukes all presumably here to try collect the bounty. He wondered if his son was actually here, there were actually some potential candidates if he was just basing it on looks alone. It would take months to check each of the people that came forwards considering that the announcement for Luke’s survival and bounty only came out three hours ago. There sheer amount of people that would try to blag their way in no matter how small the chances… So yeah, it was very clear why Anakin was wanted here. A quick brush with the force was all it would take to validate or more likely- eliminate them. Anakin could already feel the headache coming on. While still hidden in the shadows, he took one more look at the people around him, trying to get a feel for if his son was truly here or not. Force searching (with the tidal waves still crashing too) would prove fruitless in this large of an excited crowd. No, Luke has blue eyes, he thought at the fool putting green contact lenses in, another man looked about seventy and just had a literally C3p0-gold wig on his head. Was that a couple of Zabraks? Anakin couldn’t help but feel insulted on Luke’s behalf. This was going to be one hell of a long night. The Almighty Emperor of the Galaxy slunk off to the presumed interview room (where he sincerely hoped someone had the foresight to remove the obviously fake Lukes beforehand), and nobody was any the wiser to his presence. 

The plans of one Han Solo usually either went spectacularly well or spectacularly blew up. Go big or go home. It actually made quite good business in one of the last few smuggler and cargo haul rings in the galaxy and pay high because of such a high demand for decent smugglers in new harsh trading laws and Imperial forces. Chewie, after many years of these shenanigans, had a fairly good intuition when it came to these things. Chewie thought that this was certainly one of the wackier plans, but did have to admit it was safer, had a reward big enough to pay back Cad Bane and interest, then live the rest of their lives in some plushy castle somewhere on a small habitable moon they would also be able to afford. But there was no way in karking hell they’d pull it off, even if Han had gotten a hold of Emperor Skywalker’s ‘synthesised genome’ for an even more ludicrous price form some even-shadier-than-them (and that was impressive considering the duo's track record) scrap dealer named Watto. Whatever Han was cooking up was insane, but he owed his crazy friend a life-debt (not that Han cared about that) and he really would never have it any other way.


	8. Luke is legitimately a puppy- what did you expect?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke is a lost puppy :p

‘Luke spotting’, as the galaxy had put it, was not going well for our favourite smuggler duo. A week later and the novelty for most was wearing off in terms of the droves of people flooding into Coruscant. It was good for business though. People where creating new programs predicting what the Prince would look like based on his parents and old photos, some where even getting body augmentations to look like him. It had become a craze. The rest of the slightly saner galaxy was waiting with bated breath. It seemed out of this universe that after all this time the prince was alive. Utter madness. Returning to the point at hand, Luke spotting wasn’t going very well, and it only got worse after each day. Honestly how did a Duros think they were going to pass as a Skywalker? One week in and it had seemed hopeless, a waste of time. Han was never going to get the credits in time and would die young. Oh so tragic. Maybe they would make a Corellian soap opera about his life. Literal billions had tried to be Luke Skywalker, and Han was sure that the royal couple were loving it. Probably regretted putting out the call to find Luke at this point. The entire galaxy had stalled for this. That, however, was not something he needed to think about in this fine establishment. The shadiest bar he could find on the backwater Sithspit of Tatooine he had somehow ended up staying on- the Mos Eisley Cantina. Nursing a strong Alderannian whiskey (maybe this was why they were so peaceful? The alcohol was so strong they were always too smashed to fight?), he tuned out of Chewie’s drunken ramblings to listen to the sob story of the dead looking man next to him. “Owen Lars- its been far too long since you’ve been here! Take a seat, buddy I’ll bring the usual right over,” called the bar keeper,” is Luke alright anyhow?”, he asked, genuine concern in his eyes, “hear he crashed his racer pretty hard in the canyon and really screwed with his head.” Luke, Han thought, must be crazy to have a name like that on Tatooine at the minute. The man, Owen continued, ”yeah it really messed him up, he’s been in his bed for a week. First couple of nights were crazy but he seems to have calmed down now.”. Didn’t sound great, and Han almost gave his condolences to the guy when the bar tender spoke up, “you know there’s been a couple of mad rumours going around about your boy. I mean come on, blond hair, blue eyes, small for his age, the right age, innocent, on Tatooine and his name is Luke? If I didn’t know about Luke’s parents dying in the clone wars or that you and Beru most definitely weren’t complicit in kidnapping an Imperial Sith Prince to raise him as a moisture farmer I actually would suspect something.” Both laughed it off. If Owen’s laugh was a little more nervous than it should have been the bartender didn’t let on as he moved to serve the next customer. Poor guy’s probably just nervous because its Tatooine and with all the people caught up in this Luke debacle people have actually died. With all those random factors coming together too? I can imagine that guy would have had a worse week than him if his kid hadn’t been stuck in the house with a nasty head injury. Maybe the crash was a blessing in disguise. Well not anymore, very drunk Han decided as Owen left the bar only a few minutes later. Pulling on his second in command’s arm lightly, signalling time to move, he stalked him out, shushing Chewie’s roars all the same.   
By the time Owen had made it back to his house it was practically midnight, and even later for the past tipsy criminals who where trying to find the farm using the minimal speeder tracks left in the sand. Wind disturbance. Very slight but there. Only visible to the extremely well trained at the right conditions on the right sand and the right time of day. Or two drunk idiots wondering through the most dangerous desert of Tatooine. They were lucky it wasn’t day yet as they had absolutely nothing but their bodily possessions, and their bodily possessions didn’t include water. But the ‘drunken numpties’ had actually made it to the Lars farmhouse, where they opted to take a nap before dawn broke.  
That was how they woke- hungover, dehydrated, with sand everywhere, but thankfully in the shadows cast by the rock (not that they’d paid any attention to where the sun was going to rise the night before). Groaning and moaning they stretched out, and if Han thought the sand in his mouth and hair was going to haunt him for weeks; he had no idea how Chewie was going to cope. They managed to brush off most of the sand before they started snooping around the back of the house, trying to spot Luke. Huh, Luke spotting was pretty accurate after all. One bad thing about living on the best hunk-o-junk in the galaxy was that you didn’t really go to many houses in the areas you stayed. One good thing is that it didn’t take them that long to figure out that houses on Tatooine had no windows at all. A bit out of luck as the circled the house, passing all sorts from a trashed racer (no really it was scrap at this point- must have been Luke’s), a variety of electrical equipment and even a few graves; they went to go sit behind the relative safety of the lonely rock. Speaking of which, what was this one rock doing here? While it had helped them, it was rather out of place. Almost like some interdimensional being had placed it there while sleep deprived and now couldn’t be bothered to go back and remove it. Oh well, worked for him at least. As the twin suns rose a little higher they also heard the man from the bar, Owen (?), heading vaguely in their direction while shouting back at the house, “And Luke, try and see what you can salvage from your T-16 today, most of its scrap but anything that’s not we can at least sell on for a few credits. That is if you’re feeling better- but I still don’t want you going into town, young man!” Interesting, so Owen was going into town again today, his speeder was already leaving a trail that only plot-hole master maneuverers could navigate, and Luke was most likely going to come outside later. No lady in sight either… This could be their lucky break. Kid is cooped up, wants to leave. Han wants to take kid out. Kid wants credits/new racer pod. Han can provide. Kid most likely wants to get the hell of Tatooine and make it big in the galaxy, and if that bartender was right, then with some expert smuggling techniques (namely seducing or slicing a blood analysis technician, with the seduce or slice combo resting on whether or not the Empire is using droids to reduce time with all the fakes showing up), everyone will get what they want. As long as the kid can play along for enough time that Han and Chewie can disappear with the ridiculous bounty, then no harm done. So, the really hungover and mentally impaired men played the waiting game. Behind the extremely convenient rock that is.   
By Yoda, Han was thirsty, and even if Chewie was denying it- Han suspected he was too. Unless Wookies had some internal space for water storage, like a hump on a camel? What the hell was a camel? The desert was really playing tricks on him right now. Frying his brain or something. A sudden clanking sounded out over past the other side of the house. Was it Luke? It seemed to come from the direction of the speeder… Creeping round the back with his thankfully quiet furry friend in tow, Han peered out- hopefully hidden from a distracted Luke. Han was happy- Luke was distracted, and sullen by the mounting pile of pure scrap that was left of his racer. Kid certainly was lucky to come out of that one alive. Han was also ecstatic. He was perfect. Blond hair, sky blue eyes, perfect picture off innocence. Hey, put some nice clothes on the kid and he would actually look like a miniature of Anakin Skywalker himself, if a bit boyish. And smaller too. Smaller than he’d hoped but they could work with that, he certainly looked younger than he allegedly was but they wanted their baby boy back, right? So yeah, Han was ecstatic, now all he had to do was get the boy to Coruscant.   
Han’s life, as stated before, came in waves of crazy stupid and crazy brilliant ideas. So from all the crazy good, naturally everything came crashing down, with their main downfall being they were hungover and still slightly tipsy, severely dehydrated, and had been in the heat of the Tatooine desert for half a kriffing day. “Heya kid, wanna new racer? Vroom vroom. I’m down with the kids, man!” Han slurred, and then passed out. So much for the renowned suave and smoother talking charmer that was most often associated with Solo in the criminal underworld. Chewie gave out a low roar and moved towards him as Luke ran over to them too. Having been raised here, he was no stranger to the symptoms of heatstroke. “Are you two crazy? What the hell are you doing here, in the middle of literally nowhere?” Chewie only roared, and with Luke’s limited understanding he seemed to get that Han needed help. “Okay, okay, look I’m not meant to leave but there’s a spare speeder I can run you down to the medical facility in, okay?” They set off a few minutes later with Luke having gone inside to pick up his own flask while Chewie hauled his still unconscious friend over to the speeder. Luke had arrived back, “Might be a bit of a squeeze bit if you hold on we’ll be alright”. It wasn’t long before they got to the medical station, and they passed over Han to the medi-droids Luke was oh so familiar with. “Before I go, I just gotta ask, what were you two doing out there by the farm anyway?” Luke seemed genuinely curious, but before Chewie trying to formulate a semi-reasonable answer that didn’t include their plans to spirit Luke away- Han came around from his leisurely nap. “Yeah sorry about that kid, just got news in town that you were selling parts and would take a good price with no questions asked. Only need a couple of power couplings before we can get off this Sithspit. Wouldn’t happen to have any spare to sell would you?” Luke mulled it over, contemplating how mad Uncle Owen would be versus needing some credits to make sure they had enough water to last them to next harvest season. “Alright, when you’re feeling better, come back to the farm and I’ll have them out ready. 330 credits each though” he warned. Han quickly shared a panicked look with Chewie, “Wait what are the converters on them like? ERX-173s?” Luke’s brain stalled, trying to think over the specifications of a fairly mundane part in his mind. “Erm, I’m not sure, but-“ “Well then kid, I’m feeling right as rain again now,” seemingly proving this by swinging his legs off the examination table and standing up, “and our ship is only a 3 minute walk away, could you come and see if they fit before I come all the way back down?”   
Luke couldn’t really say no to Han’s pleading pace, seeing a hard looking scoundrel utilising fluffkin eyes was pretty funny too. Until Luke, got into the ship, headed into the hull to check out the connector ports. Connector ports that were in perfect condition. What the kriff?! The cockpit was a flurry of movement as the dynamic duo prepared for take-off. “Look here Chewie you can moan later, let’s get the kid to hyperspace first- then we can explain. Its not like he can escape before we get there that way.”

This was going to be one hell of a ride.


	9. Liberal use of the sarcastic 'your highness'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter be short and late. i wanted to leave it on a bit of a cliff hanger but i have not done sassy han justice nor puppy luke or well anyone really. oh well, who gives a shit cos its certainly not me. oh yeah and two people get murdered its very quick but like warning

It was a very tense 30 seconds between the take off and the jump to hyperspace, and an even tenser 3 minutes between the jump and Luke’s reappearance from the hull. From there, it became what could only be described as a Veatis standoff; Han and Chewie stood in the cockpit with a strange mix of guilt, trepidation and pride (though most of the pride was Han’s, on reflection) while being framed by the unmistakable scene of hyperspace, Luke, on the other hand, was half out of the shaft down to the hull looking rather like a lost child, or a betrayed puppy.

…

“You didn’t happen to ermm, take off, leave the atmosphere and jump to hyperspace by accident, did you…?” Luke asked hopefully, although he did sound rather resigned, especially if his wide and unbelieving eyes where anything to go by. “Look, kid, it’s nothing personal, just come here and we’ll talk it out in the gallery, ok-“

“No!” Luke hurriedly exclaims, eyes darting around to the exposed panels and *cough* ‘shoddy’ *cough* wiring across the walls of the Falcon. The duo looked startled, but as Han went to continue Luke elaborated, “If you come any closer, I’ll jump back down, and you can be sure I’ll wreck her enough to stall before you can stop me. I’m a good mechanic you know!”

Both parties seemed to be at an impasse, neither one wanting to act, wrecking the innards of the ship that they were currently in space in could prove very dangerous for everyone, no matter how good of a mechanic you are. Chewie rationed to himself, as he lunged with uncharacteristic speed at the young boy, that when scared, and rightfully so, you can make killer mistakes, and they only needed to calm him down…

It had been a gruelling week for one of the supreme rulers of the galaxy, person after person, fake after fake- while there had been an attempt at reducing the number of people, such as those who were obviously too old or young, or not human in species, many were sent his way, ‘just in case’. Not that he could blame them, you’d want to be pretty sure that this wasn’t just Luke + hair dye + age = random weirdo, but quite frankly this was getting out of hand. The endless torrent of Lukes wasn’t showing any signs of slowing and Anakin was at his wits end. On the bright side, the freshly dubbed ‘Force Flood’ was calming down significantly- and then was cut off. But Anakin was less concerned this time, because it was less like ‘death’ and more like ‘hyperspace’, which was a good sign, all in all. And the only thing stopping Anakin from straight up moving to the back waters of Florrum and becoming a desert hermit, and if there was anything to emphasise how much Anakin hated everything about the force checks he had to do (from the security risk to his wife, to the people in the palace, to people in general), was that Anakin was willing to become a _hermit_ on a planet with _nothing (excluding Padme of course)_ but _sand_. **_Sand._** Padme herself had gone back to work. She would be notified if anyone particularly promising stopped by, which, despite the size of the universe, was not as common as one might have thought, but was not integral in final confirmation as Anakin was, and well someone had to rule the galaxy with a well-manicured iron fist, right? 

Sighing once more as Anakin made his way back to the greeting chambers after a well deserved lunch break, he moved to click open the doors- when he paused. Another assassination attempt? Seriously? That’s the fourth time this week, and Anakin is eager to bet that whatever they attempt isn’t smart, let alone creative, in the slightest. The Force, while warning him slightly, didn’t even seem bothered by their meagre presence, as if Anakin was more than capable of dealing with them, Force willing or not. At least he might get a little action, Anakin thought to himself, throwing open the door with more flair and vigour than one of Jabba’s Twi’lek dancers. Surprisingly enough, one of the assassins was a Twi’lek who was accompanying a rather convincing Luke copy (Anakin actually did a rather cheeky Force check to make sure it wasn’t Luke being coerced into some plan- it wasn’t). Neither of them even had the chance to reach halfway to their well disguised blasters before Anakin snapped their necks, Force lifted their bodies into the corridor he’d just entered from, and pressed the button calling in the next fraud.

In a rather stunning display of irony, the real Luke Skywalker _was_ being coerced by somebody attempting to one over the Emperor. “No, no, no, no, no. Your plan is stupid, like Skywalker’s genome? It’s obviously fake. They have the kriffing _force_ , and then let’s say that all goes well, and they believe me. You get your money- what happens to me?! Or my uncle Ben or aunt Beru?!” Luke cried out. Han had to agree, he did have a very compelling argument, but surely it wasn’t that bad? “Look kid, I’m sorry we had to tie you down, but if you’d damaged the ship while we were in hyperspace, we would have all died.” Han paused for a moment, letting Luke settle a little before continuing, “Look, as long as you can play along, we’ll all be set, and then you might have to play it out a little, but you’ll get access to all the money, equipment and ships you like. You’d be literal Prince of the Galaxy. Imagine it, and then you grab some hair dye and whatnot then you’re free and rich and happy. Imagine how happy your little family could be in just a week or so, max. So, what do you say, your highness?”


End file.
